


Hidden Bones and Broken Wings

by Desirae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys In Love, Case Fic, Destiel Reverse Bang, Emotions, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Profound Bond, Sexy Times, Wing Kink, canon divergent season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:03:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/pseuds/Desirae
Summary: Things had been quiet around the Bunker ever since the demise of Lucifer, with many demons going to ground as Hell tried to reorganize.  Dean and Castiel were tip-toeing around each other but seemed to be on the verge of something momentous.When a slew of cattle mutilations crops up along the coast, Team Free Will investigates, with the unexpected help of Rowena. Rumors of wild dogs only heard, never seen, leads them to an old cemetery in Maine.After splitting up to search, and armed with special glasses, Dean stumbles upon a familiar beast cornering Castiel, and his heart shatters at the sight of the angel's broken wings. Now not only is Dean determined to solve the case, he’s resolute to be there for the man he loves, and help Cas heal; physically and emotionally.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!!! Well, this is my contribution to this year's Destiel Reverse Bang! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> So many thanks to the amazing ShadowPaintedRose, who was so lovely to work with and who did the gorgeous art for this story, which you'll find [here](http://shadowpaintedrose.tumblr.com/post/174646693902/hiddenbonesandbrokenwings). Check out her other work too, she's brilliant!
> 
> Thank you also to my Teapot&Parabatai Bekki who made sure my words made sense:p & to Muse& Jojo for being awesome mods as usual <3

 

 

Nighttime was Dean’s favorite time of day.  The dishes from dinner were cleaned up, and it was so quiet. The lingering smell of the steaks he’d cooked up in the cast iron mixed with the fresh smell of sliced tomato from Cas’ rooftop garden. There were no cases to deal with. Nothing for the foreseeable few days but kicking back with his brother and Cas in their man cave, watching action flicks and drinking some fine craft beer, cause why not splurge on the good stuff once in awhile?

Sam was stretched out on the large futon Donna had given them surfing the net on his laptop, while he and Castiel relaxed in the matching recliners. Dean was introducing the angel to the wonders of _Lethal Weapon_ , because _yeah, Mel Gibson is a dick, but Danny Glover is still awesome._ Jack and Mary had left to visit Jody and the girls. Claire had teased she needed to bond with her new “brother,” to which Cas had blushed, smiling with pride.

Things had been relatively quiet since Lucifer’s demise. In fighting seemed to be keeping demons busy battling amongst themselves which was no big loss to Team Free Will 2.0; in fact, they were enjoying the semi-peace.  The power of Jack, Cas, and Gabriel combined with a complicated spell performed by Rowena which had required the tears of both the Righteous man and blood of a purified soul had sent a powerless Lucifer to Purgatory and Hell once again scrambling for a leader.

That had been a fun ritual.  In order to collect the number of tears they needed, Rowena had to put Dean in a sort of trance, re-recreating a moment in his mind, that had devastated him. His subconscious had chosen Castiel’s most recent death. When Dean came out of it, he’d been dehydrated and exhausted. Everyone had seemed to walk on eggshells around him. Sam had picked him up a bacon cheeseburger with extra crispy fries on the side, having done so with no lecture about fat content and clogged arteries. Cas hadn’t said much, but his eyes had been red-rimmed and soft and he had been extra tactile with him. A hand on the arm, a pat on the shoulder, all the while looking at Dean as though he’d finally solved a puzzle that had been plaguing him for centuries. Even Gabriel had been nice to him-if tossing a bottle of lube and a new copy of _Busty_ _Asian_ _Beauties_ into his lap telling him to _have fun, Deano, you deserve it-_ could be considered nice. It wasn’t until around 3:30 am the next day that Dean found out what had happened when he was under, after sleeping most of the afternoon and night away.

 

_5 weeks prior_

 

Dean padded barefoot into the kitchen, wrapped in his beloved grey dead guy’s robe.  He blindly stumbled to the refrigerator to grab one of the few _Gatorades_ left from what he’d nearly demolished after the spell. It wasn’t as satisfying as the beer he had on the door, but it was better for him. Electrolytes and all that shit. When he turned back around he battled back a shriek. He found Rowena sitting at the scarred table sipping tea out of a cheap Gas ‘n’ Sip mug, somehow making the action look elegant.

“You should tell him, you know,” Rowena said, not looking up from her mug, steam wafting up and about her face. Dean cracked open his bottle and straddled a chair across the table from the crimson haired witch.

“Tell who what?” Dean asked, voice still rough, throat raw from the sobs he didn't remember releasing.

“Your angel, dearie. Dinna’ you remember what all your tears were for?” She asked, surprisingly not unkindly. When Dean just stared at her blankly, she rolled her eyes in exaggeration. “Castiel, you blockhead.”

For a moment Dean lost his breath as the implication set in and it wasn’t until he was getting lightheaded that it _whooshed_ out again.

“Cas? I… I was crying about Cas?”

Rowena reached over and tapped her delicate fingers to Dean’s temples murmuring, “ _Restore_.”

Dean was suddenly awash with his memories of sitting down and having the spell performed on him, Rowena speaking in a tongue he didn’t recognize. Not fully. Then suddenly, it was as though he were an observer. Dean watched on the sidelines as he saw himself sat in a chair, fingers clenching and unclenching in the material of his jeans. He watched as Castiel’s name was dragged, raggedly from his lips, utter devastation saturating is voice, as he begged the angel not to leave him, not again. Spellbound, Dean screamed in agony and rage at having Castiel taken from him, pleading to Chuck.

_“Please, please give him back. You can’t… not again. I need him. You hear that? You hear that Cas? I need you… I need you, Cas, don’t you fucking dare leave me again!”_

Dean watched like a ghost as Sam, eyes sympathetic, held a vial against  Dean’s tear-stained cheek, collecting the salty liquid, as Cas did the same on the other side; only his hand was trembling almost too hard to catch the drops. His impossibly blue eyes were gleaming, ravaged with his own silent tears as he listened to Dean beg.

_“Give him back, just give him back to me! “_

Dean’s chest was tight as he watched. He saw Castiel card a hand through Dean’s hair as his pleas turned to whimpers and gasps, eyes open, but unfocused, only seeing whatever horror lay before him in his mind, the sound of his pain almost like a living breathing thing.

_“It’s enough! We have enough,” Castiel’s voice was demanding, harsh, as he continued to stroke Dean’s burnt honey hair. “Rowena, bring him out . Now!”_

At Cas’ guttural command echoing in his head, Dean came back to himself, sucking air into his wheezing lungs. He stared across the table at Rowena, who was still sipping her tea, casual as ever.

“Well. Fuck,” Dean whispered and Rowena nodded.

“Indeed.”

  


_Present_

 

Dean was shaken from his musings by a snort of derision from the angel next to him, digging his hand into a bowl of salted and buttered popcorn that was littered with m&ms. “He thinks _he’s_ too old for this shit?” Cas asked out loud and Dean’s eyes meet Sam’s across the room, and they shared a quiet laugh.

The sound of a notification from Sam’s laptop drew his attention back to the screen.

“Talking to your magical girlfriend?” Dean teased and Sam looked at him with bitch-face patent number 603. Castiel smirked at Dean as he opened his _Budweiser_. Though he was still an angel, something had changed in Cas after the fight with Lucifer. He found himself getting hungry and sleepy as he did when he was human, and much to his dismay, performing bodily functions again - _ah_ _urination_ \- Dean couldn’t help but tease him.  Castiel told him he still retained his connection to angel radio, he still had all his skills as a warrior, could still heal. Claire had called him a hybrid, to which Castiel had conceded was a most accurate description.

“She’s not my girlfriend., Dean.  And no. Just following up on a story, and I hate to say this-”

“Then don’t,” Dean says, taking a swig of his beer, and promptly choking on it as Castiel playfully blocked his ears from whatever Sam was going to say next.

“Sorry, guys. But it looks like we got a case.”

  
  
  
  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel felt Dean’s eyes on him as he loaded his duffel bag into the trunk of his Impala. It was something he had noticed happening more frequently since the ritual to defeat Lucifer. Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if Dean remembered what happened during the spell. He didn’t initially, that was clear. He had been a foggy mess, only managing to stay awake until 4:30 pm before passing out for the night.

Cas had sat by his side for a few of those hours. _Creepy though he would have thought it_ , Cas smiled to himself ruefully. Seeing Dean like that, so wracked with grief, had punched through his gut like a wrecking ball. Not that Castiel hadn’t seen Dean in turmoil like that before, with Sam.  Sam Winchester meant everything to Dean, never were two brother’s more bonded than them and the strength of that bond warmed Castiel down to his bones. It just hadn’t occurred to him that he would rate that same kind of display. That his death would provoke such a monumental response.

He should have. He didn’t know why he didn’t figure it would.

Dean Winchester loved him. Castiel _knew_ that.  He wasn’t blind. He knew that Dean desired him, counted him as part of his family in a way that was definitely not familial, not like the love he felt for Sam. Cas could feel Dean’s longing, after all. He could hear his prayers. Sometimes both were one and the same. Dean loved Sam and Cas, in very different ways. Castiel likened it to Sam sharing Dean’s heart, but Castiel sharing Dean’s soul. He had ever since the day Castiel had gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.

Bickering like a married couple and soul-baring mix tapes aside, Dean wasn’t quite ready to accept what they truly meant to each other just yet. Not because of reasons one might think. Some would look at Dean’s awkwardness at attention from men as some kind of homophobia. Castiel knew better. Dean just wasn’t confident with men the way he was with women. They made him ridiculously nervous. No, the actual reason Dean didn’t let himself acknowledge his feelings for Cas was that he feared making the angel even more of a target than he already was. Dean was afraid that the angels and the demons and whatever other big bad was out there, would use Castiel against him the same way they used Sam.

That was why he was so angry at himself for not truly realizing what his death had done to Dean until he actually saw him that way. Until he saw Dean broken, crying his name and pleading with his father to resurrect him. Where he had stared, moss green eyes unperceiving and blind with tears as one of his worst fears came true.

Now, he was just...waiting. Cas wasn’t in a hurry. He had time. For the first time in what seemed like eons, they both had time. With Lucifer gone and the demons pretty much imploding on themselves, Castiel felt that they were on the verge of something, him and Dean. Tip-toeing around each other, sharing warm glances and brief touches of skin. It was all very chaste and Victorian and Castiel was more than happy to follow Dean’s lead, and go at his pace. Castiel wasn’t going anywhere; not if he could help it.

“You got anything else that needs to go in there?” Dean asked, with a casual hand to Cas’ back and he smiled up at Dean gently.

“No, I believe that is everything,” Castiel said, covering his eyes from the glare of the sun.

“Oh! Wait,” Dean held up a finger and ran around to the passenger side of the car, opening her up and popping open the glove box. He returned to Cas’ side with a pair of black sunglasses identical to his own. “I picked these up the other day, noticed you were squinting more than usual,” Dean teased and Cas’ chuckled lightly.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said sincerely and Dean rubbed the back of his neck as he was wont to do when embarrassed or accepting gratitude.

“Don’t mention it. Yo Sammy!” he bellowed just as Sam was heading into the garage. “You ‘bout ready get going?”

“Well...about that…” Sam said, and Dean immediately went on alert. “ I told Rowena she could tag along. We need to pick her up at the Hampton Inn. ”

Castiel had to give Dean credit. He didn’t whine or yell. He merely let out a painstaking sigh as he rolled his eyes.

“Fine. But you get the backseat with _Endora_. Cas? You’re shotgun.”

“Dean, come on. It’s like a twenty-six-hour drive, and that’s if we don’t stop,” Sam whined and Dean laughed, closing the trunk with a wide grin for his brother.

“Hey, you invite your girlfriend, it’s your job to entertain her,” Dean said with a wink at Cas. Sam looked at him as though waiting for Castiel to stand up for him and pouted when Cas merely shrugged, climbing into the passenger seat.

* * *

 

 

“So. Explain to me why you wanted to join us for this little field trip?” Dean asked Rowena as they pulled out of the Hampton Inn parking lot, taking the turn onto I-80 eastbound.

Castiel saw Rowena and Sam exchange glances from the rearview mirror. Despite Dean teasingly calling Rowena Sam’s new girlfriend, Castiel thought there was more to it than that. It just appeared to him that the two had a connection. They seemed to understand each other in ways that others couldn’t and Cas didn’t begrudge Sam having someone he could bond like that with, even if it was Rowena. Underneath all of the smart ass remarks, Castiel was pretty sure that Dean felt the same way, though initially he would have been dead set against it.

Defeating the devil together creates a bond, he supposed.

“Sam tells me you chasing after cattle mutilations?” The tone of her voice suggests she thinks this might be a wild goose chase and Castiel can’t help but silently agree. In fact, Cas is pretty sure that Sam is really the only one in the vehicle who is sure this is an actual case.

“Sam seems to think this is a case. I think he was just getting bored at the bunker,” Dean says, and Castiel finds himself nodding in agreement.

“It’s not just the cattle deaths. Yes, I get it, it could be animal attacks, but witnesses are saying they are hearing wild dogs right outside their windows and not _seeing_ anything,” Sam swiped the screen of his phone. “One person in _Scarborough_ alleges they watched as like… chunks of flesh were ripped from the cow, and all the growling and chewing noises-”

“You're saying they were that close? And they didn’t run?” Dean’s tone suggested a disbelief that Castiel found himself echoing.

“I imagine if an invisible canine was feasting on bovine in front of a human, they would have run in the opposite direction,” Castiel said.

Dean snorted, “Yeah, and pissing themselves the whole way.”

“According to this,” Sam cut in, “the witness was in too much shock to go anywhere.”

“What is that, anyway? The police report?” Dean checked his speed as they passed a cop in a speed trap.

“No, the local paper. Apparently, the police didn’t find the witness credible,” Sam admitted and Dean laughed.

“Imagine that,” Dean said, unimpressed. Cas reached out to change the radio station.  When he found a _Taylor_ _Swift_ song Dean shot him a glare that soon softened to an amused smile. When Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head Sam let out a sound of outrage from the back, which they both ignored.

“Look, I get it. It doesn’t sound like much, but cases like this have been popping up all along the coast. Almost like they’re...I don’t know…  traveling somewhere? Whatever is doing it, isn’t sticking around to cause trouble, it’s just eating livestock and moving on. Until a few weeks ago.”

“What happened a few weeks ago?” Rowena asked, finally joining in the conversation.

Castiel shifted in his seat so that he could look back at Rowena and Sam, and Dean turned down the music.

“Okay, so get this: _Rolling Hills Cemetery_ in _Portland, Maine_ has had four of their night guards quit over the past three weeks. “

“Okay. Well, don’t keep us in suspense Sammy,” Dean said impatiently.

“Apparently they were too freaked out to stay on. They say that there is this one mausoleum that constantly sounds like it’s surrounded. Just howling and growling, but no one ever sees anything.”

“Why didn’t you mention this yesterday?” Castiel asked.

“The article just came out this morning. One of the guards- _Aaron_ _Nicholson_ -was interviewed and he said that he tried to stick it out, but it got to the point where he could literally feel the hot breath of whatever it was, on his skin when he would do rounds,” Sam read from his phone,” _Nicholson says he didn’t want to leave because he didn’t want to get a crackpot reputation, but no job was worth the stress that working there was causing him._ ”

“You know what that sounds like, don’t you?” Castiel asked, looking at Dean’s profile, trying to not be distracted by the sunlight highlighting his delightfully freckled skin.

“Hellhounds,” Rowena piped up from the back.

“Exactly,” Sam said. “And ones that are maybe guarding something, too.”

“Well,” Dean said as they continued to cruise down the highway, “it’s a good thing I still have Crowley’s glasses and an angel by my side.”

There was no hiding the pleased little smile that stole across his face as Castiel laid a gentle hand on Dean’s knee, squeezing in solidarity. And when he heard Dean wish for him to leave it there, he did.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

After twelve and a half hours of driving, only stopping for one bathroom break, it was a little after 8 pm when the witch had insisted on stopping.  Dean, who had assured his passengers that he had a few more hours in him, only gave in when Castiel’s dark head dropped onto his shoulder, as the angel dozed. The heat of his body pressed against Dean’s, the lush scent of petrichor, spring rain, and apples assaulted his senses, a combination of Cas’ favorite fruit splash body wash ( _ dork _ ) and his own natural smell, heady and irresistible.

If there was one perk to traveling with Rowena, it was that she didn’t do things by halves. Dean didn’t know how she had done it, but somehow she’d gotten them a reservation at The Ritz-Carlton.

“I’m not staying the night in one of your roach motels, Bargain Hunter Bob,” Rowena sassed, rolling her r’s exaggeratedly, and Sam snickered in the backseat. Dean glared at him through the rearview mirror.

“How the hell are we supposed to afford that place?” Dean asked in a harsh whisper, trying not to wake Castiel who snuggled in closer, huffing out soft snores.

“Relax Dearie, I have it all taken care of.  Unlike you lot, I actually  _ care  _ to sleep where they change the sheets. Now just drive up to the front and give your keys to the nice valet, won’t you?”

Dean clenched his fingers around the steering wheel, grumbling under his breath about scratches and how he better not find his radio station changed when he gets his Baby back.

“You didn’t seem to be too worried about that when you let Cas listen to the top 40 countdown,” Sam sing-songed.

“Shut up,” Dean bit out as they waited for their turn in the line and turned his head to whisper down at Cas, “Hey, buddy. Time to wake up,” it took a few seconds, but soon the angel was stirring, looking up at him with glazed, cornflower eyes.  Castiel stared for a moment before blinking himself back to awareness, pulling back with a lopsided smile.

“My apologies,” Cas’ voice was sandpaper rough and sent shivers ghosting up Dean’s spine.

“Yes, yes, it’s fine, he doesn’t care,” Rowena butted in, “now pull forward before the nice Jaguar behind us gets surly waiting for his turn.”

Dean watched as Cas hid his grin behind his hand and Sam looked nonchalantly out the window.  

Dean handed his keys to the young valet who impressed Dean by remaining stoic through his warnings and glares. After grabbing their stuff from the trunk, they followed after Rowena into the lobby. The red-head looked right at home in the decadent surroundings and he was sure behind their polite facade, that the concierge was wondering what she was doing with them. They stood together in a huddle, fish out of water as she went to check them in.

Rowena returned to them with a clack of heels, and handed Dean a key card that was embossed with the name _Navy_ _Pier_ on it.  “Shall we?”

  
  


* * *

 

“Well,” Castiel said once they were in the suite, “this is quite...opulent.”

“No shit,” Dean snorted, goggling as he took in their temporary home. “Isn’t this a bit much for one night?”

The main room was done in white and navy, the carpet a slate grey that matched the oversized chair next to a navy L shaped sectional with a chaise wide enough for two. Across from it on the wall was a wide flat screen; across the room was a large round conference table surrounded by chairs.

“Two bedrooms, each with their own bath and a full kitchen area, not that I plan on doing anything aside from ordering room service,” Rowena smiled satisfyingly. “Now, I’m taking that room,” she said, pointing to one of the open bedroom doors. “You three fight amongst yourselves for the other one,” she said before sweeping into the room with her small pearl colored valise. “I’m taking a bubble bath,” the door closed with a snap behind her, leaving Dean, Sam, and Castiel standing as though in the wake of a small hurricane.

They wound up ordering pizza and picking up a twelve pack of  _ Budweiser _ from a 7/11 down the street, Dean refusing to pay the price of room service, though Rowena had no such qualms; ordering a lobster salad with shrimp toast, and a chocolate mousse tartlet which she ate on her bedroom’s balcony.

Over a meat lovers, they discussed their plan for the next day, Dean making it a point to book them into a much less lavish _Ramada_ _Inn_.  If they left at by 7 am, he figured they would roll into _Portland_ around 10 pm, where they would immediately check in and then stake out _Rolling_ _Hills_.

“I figure we split up. I got the glasses, Cas can already see with his… mojo vision,”  the angel raised a brow at him and Dean smiled cheekily, “and you and Rowena can stand by in Baby while we look around.”

“Dean, I’m not a child, I think I can handle skulking around a cemetery at night,” Sam said sarcastically.

“Without a way to see these things? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Dean, I’ll be fine. I’ll bet Rowena might even have a way to, I don’t know, cloak us or something,” Sam said, taking a swig of his beer.

Dean looked at him, flatly. “No.”

Sam huffed out a laugh, “C’mon. Cas? You wanna help me out?”

Castiel cocked his way in that endearing way that always reminded Dean of an inquisitive bird. “Get in the middle of this,” he gestured between the two brothers, “past precedent tells me you’ll do what you want anyway, Sam. And Dean will yell about it, and I ’ll get to play referee. So I was thinking in the interest of saving time, we could forget about all of that, and just see what we see when we get there.”

Dean gave a grunt of assent and Sam stood up, bracing his hands on the tops of his thighs before stretching. “Alright. I”m gonna wash the road off of me, and hit the hay. If one of you hasn’t stolen the other bedroom before I get out, it’s all mine,” he warned.

“You go right ahead, Sasquatch,” Dean said, stretching his legs out on the chaise. “I’m gonna be fine right here. But let me know when you're out so I can shower too.”

 

* * *

 

Dean came out of the shower, wearing an old grey tee shirt with holes in the hem and sweatpants. He imagined compared to the luxury of the suite, he looked homeless. Sam was already passed out, starfished across the bed like he used to when he was a kid. It made him think of all the times Dean would find him asleep, with a book in his hands, sneakers still on. A wave of affection washed over him, as Dean pulled the kicked off covers over his brother.

When he came back out into the living room he found Cas had changed as well, into a pair of black sweats and an old AC/DC tee shirt that Dean recognized as his own. He’d stolen the chaise and was focused on some sort of nature documentary on the Eastern Timber Wolves of Canada.

“Shove over, couch thief, this is the best viewing spot,” Dean said gruffly, pulling two beers out of the ice bucket on the coffee table. He popped off both of the tops, handing one to Cas as he sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “All of the things you could be watching, and you choose the mating habits of wolves?”

“These wolves are very nearly extinct, Dean.  Human persecution over a period of four hundred years caused a population decline which reduced the number of suitable mates, thus facilitating coyote gene swamping into the eastern wolf population.”

Dean rolled his eyes affectionately, “Okay, Casopedia.  Did Rowena ever come out of her room?”

Castiel took a sip of his beer and shook his head no. “Why? Should we check on her?”

“And interrupt whatever crazy she might  have going on in there? No thanks.”

“Do you think she and Sam-”

“Don’t even say it, Cas. I’m not ready for that.”

“You might need to be. They seem like they are getting closer,”

“Nope,” Dean said, popping the p, ending the discussion before it can really start. “Come on, do we really have to watch this?”

“I’m sorry there’s no Dr. Sexy marathon on for you.”

Dean whipped his head towards Cas, but the angel’s face was blank. If it weren't for the minute tic in his jaw, Dean wouldn’t have even known he was being teased. Dean reached over and wrestled the remote out of Cas’ hands and he laughed, a musical sound that Dean wished he could hear more often. In fact, Dean was going to make sure he did.

Dean perused the guide, searching for something that Cas could watch without feeling the need to correct every inaccuracy the way he had with _National_ _Treasure_ and _Indiana_ _Jones_.

“Why do you think hellhounds flocked to an old New England cemetery?” Castiel asked, shifting onto his side so he was facing Dean.

“Your eyes are so blue,” Dean found himself blurting out, before shaking his head, ignoring the fond amusement in said cobalt depths. “I don’t know, man. This whole thing is weird. Rowena wanting to tag along; also weird.”

Cas hummed in agreement as he sat up to grab his beer from the coffee table and take another swig. “Yes, the case is most unusual, but Rowena… I can see where she is coming from. The need, the  _ desire  _ for redemption...it’s a powerful thing.”

Dean finally settled on an episode of _Expedition_ _Unknown_ , keeping the volume down low, then turned to face Castiel.

“Are you still looking for redemption, Cas?” Dean asked softly.

“Always,” the reply was automatic, as though it wasn’t even a question, and it made Dean’s heart ache. Castiel never seemed to feel as though he’d made up for his transgressions in heaven, and it frustrated Dean to no end.  Castiel had made mistakes, there was no denying that, but it did not by any means outweigh all of the good he has done over the years. No one had to beg Cas to help take down Lucifer. He did it because of his love for God’s creations, his love for his family: angelic and human. He did it for Claire. Jack. Sam. Mary.

He did it for the world.

He did it for Dean.

“For the record, Cas,” Dean covered Castiel’s hand, giving it a squeeze, “ I think you have redeemed yourself a thousand times over.”

Dean watched Cas’ Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, wide blue eyes shining with gratitude.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas rasped solemnly. His gaze never wavered as he turned his hand palm side up, slow enough to give Dean a chance to pull away. Needing no such out, he linked their fingers.

It seemed as natural as breathing then, for Dean to lean forward and press his lips to the angel’s. It was gentle as a whisper, the way their mouths moved against each other. Dean wondered if Cas was even aware that he was gripping his hand. Their lips brushed softly; catch, hold, release… and catch again.

A low hum came from Cas’ throat and Dean reached out with his free hand to cup his stubbled face. Cas leaned into the touch, lips parting on a sigh and Dean swept his tongue lightly along Cas’ full bottom lip before dipping inside to dance with his. It was Castiel who angled his head to take the kiss deeper, slipping his arm around Dean’s waist and bringing their bodies flush. They continued to explore, the soft, slick sound of gentle suction in concert with the light moans of long awaited pleasure.

Eventually, their kisses slowed, until they were merely pressing flesh to flesh, in sleepy contentment.  Dean shifted onto his back and Castiel settled against him, angling his chin up to meet Dean’s stare. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, louder than the soft strains of the television, louder than Cas’ soft puffs of breath. He was so full of emotion it tightened his chest and when he let himself close his eyes he saw sunbursts as he finally remembered to breathe. A euphoric bubble of laughter tumbled  out which seemed to delight Cas who was soon laughing along with him.

Castiel stretched over Dean’s head, grabbing a thick, navy blanket from the back of the chaise, and Dean helped cover them both up. Cas burrowed into him and Dean held him tight. He pressed a kiss to Castiel’s head, inhaling rich, rain-washed earth and apples.  They settled in to learn about the origins of _Stonehenge_ , and Dean didn’t even mind when Cas corrected the narrator the whole way through. Falling asleep to Castiel’s voice was definitely something Dean hoped to get used to.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel wasn’t sure who fell asleep first, but when morning came, they were still wrapped around one another. Cas had to give Dean credit. He ’d expected a little bit of resistance, some embarrassment. Instead, Dean had woken up, the fingers of one hand fisted in Cas’ hair, the other clutching Castiel’s shirt. Cas, who didn’t need nearly as much sleep as a human did, stayed, enjoying the warmth and comfort provided in Dean’s embrace. He felt safe, in a way he hadn’t in a very long time. Not in the physical sense, because Castiel could take care of himself. But emotionally, he felt as though he could finally begin to open up to Dean about his feelings. About the depth of his love for the human he'd rescued from hell and continued to stand by. And he could do so without fear of rejection. Cas had listened to the steady beat of Dean’s heart, watched the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and gloried in the sandalwood and leather scent that was uniquely Dean, until they’d had no choice but to rise.

Sunlight poured in through the wide windows making him squint as he looked up. Dean chuckled lightly at him before pressing a tender kiss to Cas’ forehead.

“Come on,” Dean said, nudging him. “time to rally the troops.”

* * *

 

 

Dean banged his head repeatedly against the steering wheel as they continued to sit in traffic. 

“This is all your fault,” he said, glaring at Sam in the mirror. Sam’s jaw dropped open in outrage.

“How is this my fault? In what way do I have control of when and where construction is done?”

“You couldn’t have looked up the route?” Dean asked, frustration saturating his voice.

“It didn’t _show_ _up_ on the route,” Sam fired back.

“It’s backed up all the way through the Lakeland Freeway! Is it going to be like this after the switch from I-80 to I-90 too?”

“Dean. What do you want me to do? Use my time machine and just-”

“Enough,” Castiel barked, “You’re both giving me a headache.”

“Seconded,” Rowena said with a roll of her eyes.

“Dean, Sam cannot control the roadwork,” Castiel said and Dean turned to him with a pout that the angel did NOT find absolutely adorable.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Dean groused, but Cas was relieved to hear some of the irritation leech out of his voice.

“Cas doesn’t get to automatically agree with you because you’re together, you know?”  Sam said primly and Castiel felt his face flush.

“Been spying on me, Sammy? Looking for tips?” Dean snarked with a cocky brow lift.

Sam pulled a face at him while Rowena snickered.

“Tips on what?” Rowena asked. “How to snuggle like adorable little puppies on a couch?”

“Jealous?” Dean sneered at her and Cas sighed painstakingly.

“Alright, the sign says there is a Biggerson’s at the next exit. We’ll stop and have lunch and maybe we can figure out an alternate route. But I need to get out of this car soon, or I might actually smite someone before we even get to _Portland_.”

It was quiet for a beat.

“You’re gorgeous when you’re angry, Cas.”

It was going to be a long ride.

 

* * *

 

Things calmed down after they stopped for lunch. It was amazing what bacon did to Dean’s mood, though the teasing hadn’t ended.

“Do you ever order anything that doesn’t come deep fried and with bacon? That stuff is gonna kill you one day,” Sam warned and Dean rolled his eyes as he stole a french fry from Castiel’s plate.

“Dude, relax. Do I look like I’m not in shape?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just because you look healthy, doesn’t mean you are, Dean. I honestly don’t know how you haven’t had a heart attack.”

“Most people don’t have an angel who regularly cleans out their arteries with a touch,” Castiel said over a mouthful of turkey club, almost choking at the shocked look on both Sam and Dean’s faces. “Your welcome,” he said, patting his mouth with a napkin.

Dean smiled brightly at him before turning back to Sam. “See? No heart attack for me. I’m gonna die fighting demons like any respectable hunter.”

“As scintillating as this conversation is,” Rowena interrupted, looking up from where she was scrolling on her phone, “ there are some alternate routes, but they will take us out of the way, and if you can just hold on until Pennsylvania, the construction ends there.”

“I just want to get into town early enough where we aren’t stuck waiting a whole other day to get this thing taken care of,” Dean said and everyone had to agree with that.

When they got back on the road, Dean actually let Sam drive for awhile while Cas moved to the back seat, going over different angelic and magical ways to try and track the hellhounds and whatever they were guarding.

“I don’t have a spell that can make them visible to you, Samuel, but I _can_ make you invisible to them.”

“That’s great!” Sam said. “Will it work on all of us?”

“It would be very difficult, I’m afraid. It’ll take quite a bit of concentration on my part just to keep the two of us hidden,” she said regretfully.

“It’s fine, Sammy. Cas can see them, and so can I with the glasses, so we’ll at least be prepared.”

It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was something.

Aside from a quick stop at a McDonalds drive-thru, they drove straight through the rest of the way to _Portland_ , _Maine_. Dean had booked two rooms, a single for Rowena and a double for him, Cas, and Sam. It wasn't even a question when they walked into the room that Dean and Cas would be sharing a bed, as both wordlessly dropped their duffels on the one closest to the door.

The room was sparse, just a small table with two chairs, two double beds and a bolted down TV. Castiel smiled fondly at the brothers as he could see they were immediately much more at home here than they had been in their luxury suite. No one could ever tell him that Dean and Sam Winchester were spoiled.

It was quarter to eleven by the time they’d dumped everything in their rooms and Rowena took Sam back to hers’ to perform the invisibility spell. Dean and Cas went back outside, double checking the address on Cas’ phone.

“So, it’s only about twenty-five minutes from here,” Castiel said, as he leaned against the car. It was a cool night for early summer, but the sky was cloudy. Castiel would bet his grace that there would be rain before the night was through.

Cas startled when he felt a hand under his chin, lifting his face. He broke into a smile when Dean leaned into his space and met him halfway. Unlike the night before, this kiss was no slow exploration, it was a fast brush fire. Dean bracketed Cas’ head, bracing his arms on the roof of the car as he took his mouth, wet and deep, rolling his tongue against Castiel’s. Dean tasted of the strawberry _Jolly_ _Ranchers_ he’d been sucking on, and he couldn’t help the little mewl of want that escaped when their lips parted to change angles.  Cas shoved his phone into his pocket, nearly dropping it in his haste to slide his hands under Dean’s brown jacket and drag his fingers up his back. Cas pulled back to catch his breath only to lose it again as Dean dragged his lips down his neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against his Adam’s apple, before finding a spot in the crook of his neck perfect for biting. It was little surreal for Castiel, openly kissing the object of his affections, as though it were something that they had always done.

“Why doesn’t this feel awkward?” he murmured against Dean’s lips, opening his eyes when he rumbled out a laugh.

“Because it’s right,” Dean said, pressing a hard kiss to Castiel’s mouth. “We’ve been a long time, comin’ Cas.”

The conviction in Dean’s voice had warmth curling in his belly and he found himself embracing the hunter tightly, and Dean gripped him back just as hard.

Heels echoing across the parking lot had them pulling back far enough to look and see who was coming.

“Seriously?” Dean said with a pointed look at Rowena’s feet.

“Just because I’m going to be traipsing through a graveyard, doesn’t mean I can’t be fashionable doing it. Not everyone lives in flannel and boots, Winchester. Even your angel is wearing a suit, though the trench coat is a bit drab.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean said. “I’ll remember this conversation when you twist your ankle tripping over a headstone.”

“Okay, guys, let’s just get this over with, okay?” This time Sam sat in the backseat without complaint as Castiel took the passenger seat.

Time to get this show on the road.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

When they pulled into the parking lot of _Rolling_ _Hills,_ _Cemetery_ , Dean couldn’t help but laugh. Castiel looked at him quizzically but he could tell by the shake of Sam’s head that his brother was thinking the same thing he was.

The atmosphere was almost horror movie cliche. Thick fog, not quite raining but damp enough to make your skin feel sticky. It was still cloudy but the moon was bright enough to shine like a halo.

And the dogs were howling.

“If this winds up like _Pet_ _Cemetary_ , I swear to God,” Dean said and Sam chuckled uneasily.   They congregated around the trunk as Dean and Sam armed up, Cas declining one in favor of his angel blade. Sam handed Rowena a revolver and Dean grabbed the hellhound glasses and started towards the gate.

The sound of the howling was pretty distant. He scanned the grounds, surprised at how large it actually was.

“I guess that’s why it’s called Rolling Hills,” Castiel commented, gesturing towards the dips and valleys, some small, some extremely large. Dean noted a few mausoleums scattered about and sighed.

“ I didn’t want to do this but I’m thinking that maybe we should split up,” Dean said. “No I told you so’s,” He said pointing at Sam.

Sam held his hands up, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright, Sam and Rowena, you go left, Cas, you go right and I’ll head up the middle. Each of you check out the crypts in your area.”

“It would be a lot easier if we knew which one the witness was talking about,” Castiel said and Dean nodded.’

“Yeah. Worse comes to worse and we don’t get to the bottom of this tonight, we get in touch with that Nicholson guy, see if he can’t give us a layout and where he heard most of the noise. Alright, you guys ready?”

Sam nodded at his brother and gave Cas a pat on the shoulder then he and Rowena headed into the cemetery.

Dean gripped Castiel by the shoulder. “Don’t be a hero in there, you get in too much trouble, you get out, you hear me?”

Castiel smiled at him indulgently. “I’m sure I can handle a hellhound, Dean, should I come across one.”

Dean raised a brow. “Just humor me, okay?” he didn’t wait for a reply, just leaned in for quick, hard kiss.

Castiel turned right as he entered and Dean stood watching until the inky outline of his form disappeared. He put the glasses on his face and started moving.

Dean sometimes forgot how loud nature was. He supposed being in an underground bunker aided that. As he walked, carefully picking his way of headstones and gnarled roots just begging to trip someone, crickets sang, their song seeming to come from everywhere. There was what sounded like the call of a loon which made him think they must be near a pond or lake.  All punctuated by random howls.

Dean was halfway towards the mausoleum when he heard the hounds baying, frenzied. It was coming from the right. Dean took off running, a litany of _Cas_ , _Cas_ , _Cas_ chanting in his head. Dean tripped over a rock and fell forward, catching himself on his hands, but he got back up and running, ignoring the sting.

When Dean finally reached Cas, he was startled to see his angel facing off with a huge hellhound, angel blade out and eyes blazing blue.  But that wasn’t the most shocking sight. No. The most shocking thing had to be seeing Castiel’s bent and broken wings. They were mostly bone, with charred, black feathers dripping from the ivory appendages.  The sight wrenched his heart and made his eyes well up.

                                                                      

“Cas,” he whispered . _Oh God, does it hurt? How is he standing_? Is what ran through Dean’s mind. He was so preoccupied with Castiel’s wings that it didn’t register right away the howling had stopped. Dean slowly made his way towards Castiel and stood by his side. He wanted to look at the beast, but his eyes kept straying back to his angel’s wings.

Castiel, oblivious to Dean’s distress nodded up towards the hill. One of the crypts was aglow with light.

“It looks like Sam and Rowena may have found something,” Cas said, his voice like gravel as he tried to speak quietly. The hellhound didn’t seem too interested in attacking. To Dean’s complete surprise, it sat back on its haunches as though waiting for something. Dean even thought the dog looked familiar. And then it hit him.

“I...I know this hellhound,” he stuttered out and Castiel cocked his head in question. Again, his wings distracted Dean, as they shifted with each movement of the angel’s body.

“You know her?” Cas asked, clearly confused.

“Juliet. Crowley’s favorite. What are you hiding here, you naughty girl?” Dean asked softly and Juliet lifted her head, nodding it towards the same mausoleum that Castiel had just pointed out. “You wanna show me?” Dean asked and Juliet rose. The hellhound started up the hill and Dean and Cas followed behind.

After a few seconds of silence, Dean burst out with: “Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“How much pain you're in? Oh, God, Cas, I am so, so sorry. I never would have squeezed you so tight or held you so close if I had known-”

“Dean, Dean, hold on,” Castiel said, stopping for a moment and taking his hand in concern. “What are you talking about. Why would you apologize for embracing me? What pain are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your wings, Cas! I’m talking about your fucking wings!”

Dean could see when it dawned on him, by the way he opened and closed his mouth. “The glasses,” he said, finally. “You can see them because of the glasses. I should have known. I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas said regretfully and Dean goggled at him.

“You’re sorry? Why the fuck are you sorry?  If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. It’s my fault, isn’t it? Your wings? They’re burned, and you’re low on feathers. It happened when you rescued me, didn’t it?” Dean throat was tight as he fought back despair and nausea. He had done this. How could Cas even stand to look at him? Dean knew they should have been following Juliet, but at the moment he was stuck. How the fuck did Cas even let Dean _touch_ him without cringing?

“Dean!” Cas firm tone brought him back from his downward spiral and he focused on the angel’s face to anchor himself. “Dean, this was not your fault. Yes, some happened when I raised you from perdition, but I would do that a million times over, no matter what the cost to me, physical or otherwise. The rest of the damage has happened over time, different battles...it doesn’t hurt, I promise you. “

“You’re sure?” Dean asked tremulously and Cas reached up to cup his cheek.

“I’m sure.  They aren’t even on this plane right now, so you could hold me as tight as you wanted and I still wouldn’t feel it. I would have to make them materialize for you to touch them.”

“Would you want to do that? Have me touch them? Maybe there is something I could do? Like, comb them or...I don’t know, put some ointment on them?” Dean asked and Cas chuckled.

“You want to groom my wings?” Castiel teased and Dean felt heat rise in his face.

“If it makes you feel better, I would be honored to groom your wings, Cas.”

“Later,” the angel promised and started up the hill.

Dean and Cas made their way up to the crypt where they saw Rowena working a spell, the entrance of the tomb glowing.

“Rowena could sense some magic here. She is trying to figure out how to unlock the spell. How about you guys, did you find anything? We heard some howling but then it just stopped.”

“Oh, we found something, alright. You remember Juliet?”

Sam’s face scrunched up in surprise. “Crowley’s hellhound?”

“One in the same,” Dean said.

“She is standing right in front of you,” Castiel added just as Rowena let out a little shriek of self-satisfaction.  She waved her hands, elegantly, producing a ball of light, and letting it float into the crypt, illuminating it.

“Neat trick,” Dean said and Rowena smiled smugly.

“Thank you. I thought it would be safer to send it in first then us go barrelling in with flashlights and running into God knows what.”

They peered inside, but Juliet had no such trepidation, running inside and laying her head down on a brown satchel in the middle of the floor. A swirling trickle of red smoke escaped the hellhound on an exhale slipping into the bag which began to glow.

Suddenly, Rowena gasped. “Oh, you clever little bastard,” she murmured. Dean, Cas, and Sam stepped back as the bag began to lengthen and stand, falling away until a glowing skeleton appeared. The cranium turned towards Rowena, jaw opening as a familiar voice filled up the room.

“Mother. Would you do the honors?”

Rowena weaved her hands together before spreading them out, whorls of light shooting from her fingertips and slithering in and out of the bones of the skeleton. Like slow growing moss, muscle and sinew began to coat the bones, organs appeared and pulsed until finally, skin knitted together over the form. Soon, they were met with dark hair and a wicked smile.

“Hello, boys. Miss me?”

 

* * *

 

By the time they got back to the hotel Dean was just overwhelmed. It turned out that Rowena wasn’t the only one who knew some spells. Crowley had protected himself before they went to the apocalypse world. If he were to “die”, the demon would automatically find his way to Juliet. Juliet would take him to his bones and eventually, he would revive. Of course, Crowley’d had to wait for the rift to open again before he could make his way to his favorite hellhound.  Having his mother’s added magic this evening had certainly sped up the process. According to Crowley, he did what he could to get their attention, without crossing the line that he didn’t want to cross anymore. Crowley still wanted to be the King of Hell. He just wanted to do it differently. A more humane way. The kicker was, Dean actually believed him.

They had parted ways at the cemetery, Crowley and Rowena taking off together, but not before the witch kissed Sam on the cheek, promising to call him later. Sam had actually blushed even as Crowley blustered about his mother's rotten taste in men and that he was most definitely not going to call the Moose “Daddy.”  To Dean, she conjured a condom and told him to be safe while rounding 5th base, cackling with glee. Crowley thanked Dean for paying attention to the signs, but Dean told him to thank Sam because Dean hadn’t even wanted to investigate. They parted ways with a clap on the shoulder and Dean felt a sort of peace now that his _frenemy_ , as they say, was back in business.

When they arrived back the hotel, Sam had taken Rowena’s room, and Dean was grateful for the privacy with Cas. Neither of them had revealed that Dean had been able to see his wings with the glasses. They both seemed to realize it was too private.

Freshly showered, Dean came out of the bathroom. He picked up the glasses from where he left him and gestured with them at Castiel. “How come I never knew I could _see_ you with these?”

Castiel sat down on the bed and patted the space next to him, and Dean sat down, turning so they were facing each other. “When Juliet came upon me, I wasn’t sure if she was going to attack. It was instinct for me to manifest my wings… sort of like a show of dominance.  It’s possible you can see them when they're not manifested with the glasses, but I’m not sure. You’d have to test it.”

Dean put the glasses on and looked at Cas, but only seeing the angel’s human form. No wings. “No, not working. Do I really need to wear these when you bring them out? Can’t I just close my eyes while I touch them?” Dean couldn’t help but notice how Castiel’s eyes darkened at the mention of Dean’s hands on his wings and felt anticipation at the prospect of getting his hands on them.

“The urge you would have to open them would not be worth the risk. But someday soon, you won’t need them.”

Dean raised his brows. “What’s the difference between right now and soon?”

Castiel tilted his head and took his hand. “You don’t remember this, but when I rescued you from hell, your soul… wounded and tarnished though it was, was still bright. It remains, to this day, the most incandescent, exquisite one I have ever seen,” Cas’ words brought a flush of embarrassment to his face. “And when I reached you, your soul called out to my grace...it sought my essence out as though it had been waiting just for me. Dean,” Cas squeezed his hand gently, “when I say we have a profound bond, those aren’t just words.”

Dean liked the idea that his soul was always meant to find Cas, to be joined with his grace. “So we’re connected? Then why…?” he waved the glasses again.

“When I raised you from hell, our bodies were not corporeal. We were energy and light, until I rebuilt you from scratch, down to the last golden freckle,” Castiel smiled at him with aching tenderness. “We are connected like you said. It’s why I hear your prayers louder than anyone else, it’s why I can feel your longing as deep as though it were my own. It’s very spiritual.”

Cas picked up the glasses off of the bed and fiddled with them. “But here, on earth, for you to see my wings safely, we need more than just a profound spiritual bond.”

“What kind of bond would we need?” Dean asked, though he already had a feeling he knew where this is going.

“A physical one… a mating bond,” Cas’ lips pulled up into a half smile. “Sex, Dean. We’d need to have sex.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you meant,” Dean said with a laugh, taking the glasses from Castiel’s hands. “Come on. Let’s get our groom on.”

Cas sat in front of Dean on the bed, cross-legged and shirtless, as he manifested his broken wings and fanned them out. The blankets were pushed to the edge of the bed _to_ _avoid_ _Cas’_ _natural_ _oil,_ the angel had told him before he went in for his shower. Dean began brushing Cas’ feathers with his fingers in awe, straightening them out and at Cas’ request, tugging out the loose ones.

“Damn Cas, these are like silk.”

Cas gave a pleased hum. “I wish you could see them at their glory instead of so sparse and damaged,” he didn't sound bitter about it, just matter of fact.

“There still beautiful, Cas, cause they're a part of you. And you...you are the most beautiful thing in my world,” Dean said reverently, bending down to kiss the nape of Cas’ neck, breathing him.

“Thank you, Dean,” there was so much emotion in the words and for a moment, Dean just held him, arm tugging Cas back against him as he continued to nose at his neck.

“You smell incredible. Is it this wing oil?” Dean asked, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together, noticing that his fingers were slick with it.

“Yes,” Cas said on a soft sigh as Dean began stroking his now straightened feathers. “It protects my feathers and gives them that glossy shine,” he murmured, allowing his head to fall back on Dean’s shoulder. Dean took the opportunity to suck a bruise into Cas’ neck as he stretched his hands out, stroking more of Castiel’s wings. He could hear Cas’ breathing change, breath hitching and becoming ragged. When Dean pressed again at the little walnut-sized glands at his wing joints, the angel arched and keened. Slick oil leaked out and Dean couldn’t help but lick one of his fingers. The flavor of apple exploded onto his tongue, finished with something earthy. Looking over Cas’ shoulder, Dean couldn't help but see the outline of his cock plumping in his sweatpants.

“Cas?” Dean whispered brokenly, “can I touch you?”

Castiel’s only response was a deep groan and a nod.  Dean widened his stance as he sat on his knees, tugging Cas back even more firmly against him. Dean’s own cock was hard, trapped in his own sleep pants, but he ignored it to focus his attention on Cas.  Dean gathered more oil on his fingers before slipping his hand down Castiel’s pants. At the first touch of Dean”s slick hand to his cock, Cas cried out. Slowly, Dean began to stroke the hard length of him inside of his pants. He wished he’d thought to have Cas strip all the way and as though hearing him, Castiel snapped his fingers and made himself bare, legs propped on the bed and spread.

“Fuck,” Dean whispered as he watched the pink glistening head of Cas’ cock slide in and out of his grip. Cas’ hands were digging into the meat of Dean’s thighs as he fucked into Dean’s fist. Cas turned his head, blindly searching for Dean’s mouth and he eagerly complied, matching the strokes of his tongue with the strokes of his hand, stripping Cas firm and fast, making sure to swirl his thumb across the head. Soon, he couldn’t keep up though, just panting into Dean’s mouth as he chased his release.

 _“Ah, ah, ah, Dean!_ ” Castiel made delicious sounds as he thrust into the slick tunnel of Dean’s hand, until suddenly, he locked up, fucking up one more time before bursts of come shot from the head, covering Dean’s hand. Dean continued to stroke him through the aftershocks until Castiel became too sensitive for touch. His breath was ragged and his chest was heaving, head again falling back on Dean’s shoulder. Dean pressed a soft kiss to Cas’ sweat-dampened brow, then eased back onto the bed, turning them both on their side and spooning the angel. Before Dean could wipe his hand on his pants, Castiel snapped and the mess and his wings were gone, though he was still shaking like a leaf. Arm trembling, he reached behind him but Dean just laughed.

“Don’t worry about me, Cas,” Dean said softly, taking the glasses off and tossing them onto the bedside table.  He ran his now clean hand up and down the angel’s arm and side soothingly.

“But...don’t you want to go to 5th base?” Castiel questioned earnestly and Dean huffed out a laugh, sitting up for a moment to pull the blankets back up from the end of the bed and cover them. He settled back down, holding Cas tightly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there. Plenty of time, now,” Dean said, bending forward to kiss Cas’ temple. “Besides, when we do complete that mating bond I want it to be at home, in our own bed, not at some Ramada Inn with _Saturday_ _Night_ _Special_ promotion,” Dean said and Castiel’s body shook with quiet mirth.

“I love you, Dean.”

I love you too, Cas,”  Dean said fiercely, words he hadn’t said in ages, bursting forth like a summer storm, leaving him feeling clean, free, and eager for the future.  

 

       

 

The end


End file.
